


Fun For the Whole Family™

by InkgooSupernova



Series: The Winter System [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Again not with the child that is completely separate jesus tapdancing christ, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Autism Spectrum, Bed-Wetting, Blowjobs, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Boys In Love, Bucky Barnes has DID - Dissociative Identity Disorder, But not with the smut jesus h christ, Crack Treated Seriously, Diapers, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Sex, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Dom, Gentle Sex, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kid Bucky Barnes, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Men Crying, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Non-Sexual Age Play, Omorashi, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Separation Anxiety, Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Top Sam Wilson, Unreliable Narrator, Watersports, Wetting, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23620816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkgooSupernova/pseuds/InkgooSupernova
Summary: 'Why does daddy haf'o go?' Jamesy all but sobbed deep in their skull. " 'S he gonna leave f'rever?''Daddy's gonna be back before you know it,' Bucky reassured the anxious toddler, leaning into Sam's side silently. 'We get to spend the next few days with Uncle Sam. You like Uncle Sam, remember?'Alternate title: Bucky and the Winter System spend the weekend with Sam.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: The Winter System [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693231
Comments: 42
Kudos: 246





	1. Gonna Let the Rain Pour (I'll Be All You Need and More)

**Author's Note:**

> This story is mostly based in fiction unlike some of the other stories in this series. Later chapters will include mature material as well as material more heavily based on real life personal experiences (mostly panic attacks and separation anxiety/abandonment issues).
> 
> This story is meant to be fluffy and sweet, showing Bucky and his system's relationship with Sam while Steve is away on a mission, both the mature and romantic sides with Bucky and the Soldier as well as the platonic family sides with Jamesy and Winnie.
> 
> This chapter's title is a line from 'Umbrella' by Rihanna.

"Don't do anything stupid until I get back." Steve chided, rubbing Bucky's back in their tight embrace.

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you." Bucky hummed, nuzzling into the other's shoulder as if this was their final goodbye.

In reality, Steve was going to a press conference with the rest of the Avengers, nothing dangerous or even remotely exciting, but safe at least. In turn, that meant Bucky and his gaggle of goofs were going to be babysat by Sam for the next few days. Steve kept telling him to think about it like a vacation with their other boyfriend, but technically that only applied to Bucky and Soldier. For the two youngins, it would, in fact, be babysitting.

"I'll be back in three days. Be good, all of you." Steve pulled Bucky into a chaste kiss, then pulled Sam into a similar embrace, picked up his bags, and walked out the door.

'Why does daddy haf'o go?' Jamesy all but sobbed deep in their skull. " 'S he gonna leave f'rever?'

'Daddy's gonna be back before you know it,' Bucky reassured the anxious toddler, leaning into Sam's side silently. 'We get to spend the next few days with Uncle Sam. You like Uncle Sam, remember?'

"You hungry? There's a new deli down the street that looks pretty good." Sam had unknowingly interrupted their internal conversation. Bucky thought for a moment, he should probably eat. They always had to keep up with their body's extreme metabolism, after all.

"That sounds good, help get Jamesy's mind off all this." Bucky chuckled, pretty much to himself. Sam smiled at him and pat his shoulder.

"Alright, go get dressed, I'll grab the umbrella. It might rain later." Sam hummed, walking to the kitchen area to give Bucky his time. Bucky remembered the time Sam visited while it was raining. Jamesy began babbling on about how Daddy and Uncle Sam cuddled him when he got scared of the thunder. Bucky couldn't help the happy little flap of his flesh hand at the little ones passive influencing happiness.

After Bucky had dressed down in a thin hoodie, a navy shirt, and a pair of simple blue jeans that helped to cover the bulk of his protective padding, along with a blue baseball hat and sunglasses (totally not obvious or suspicious, completely normal civilian attire), he moseyed back to the living room where Sam was waiting. Once the both of them were ready, they walked out the door of the apartment, into the elevators of the tower, and to the outside world.

Bucky was almost completely stuffed by the time he and Sam walked out of the deli together. Two italian subs and a large side of pasta salad will do that, even with a super soldier metabolism. They had decided that since it was such a lovely day with only a few stray, fluffy clouds in sight, that they would take a walk down to the nearest park trail to help digest their meals.

"If it's too hot out, just let me know and we can go home." Sam assured the other. He always made sure that they were comfortable, and that made all of them happy.

"With that umbrella? We can just stand under it if it gets too hot. Instant shade." Bucky laughed. Sam had managed to pick up the gayest umbrella in their entire apartment; a large, sparkly, rainbow umbrella that Tony had given him and Steve as a gag gift for Christmas. It was the year Steve had told the rest of the Avengers that he and Bucky were together.

Sam laughed along with him, swaying the furled umbrella by the hook handle as they walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand.

Their walk to the park was beautiful. The world warm but not so painfully bright that it affected their body's light sensitivity, the air was as fresh as it could be in the city of Manhattan, and the bustling sidewalks were filled with the sights and sounds of the city without being crowded enough to cause panic. The two took their time walking down the sidewalks until they finally made it to the nature park. A wide open field of grass with just a few trees sprinkled around the concrete path to provide ample shade.

"Alright, I'm ready to go home." Bucky laughed. They were learning that light teasing and wholesome jabs were okay now.

'But we just got here.' Bucky heard the Soldier's voice in the back of his head. He still wasn't exactly used to sarcasm or jokes like that. None of them really were, it's just that some of them were better at understanding it than others.

Sam's laugh filled Bucky's ears, causing an involuntary, authentic smile to squirm its way across his features. The two of them began to walk along the path of the park, taking in the sights and sounds of the world around them.

Turns out that they really _did_ need that umbrella after all, as not fifteen minutes after they began walking through the park, those little fluffy clouds in the sky morphed into large, dark storm clouds that poured heavily onto the world below them.

"Bet you'll thank me for grabbing this now!" Sam laughed as they ran for cover underneath the umbrella that was just barely shielding them from the pelting rain. Bucky laughed along with him.

"Always prepared!" Bucky barked out a laugh over the loud thrum of rain, their heavy footsteps splashing in the water that pooled on the sidewalk. The two finally made it back to the tower and up to their apartment after their clothes had become overwhelmingly soaked.

As they stepped into the apartment, peeling off shoes and socks and jackets, Bucky couldn't help but laugh. Even with his padding completely soaked and squishing uncomfortably between his legs- and for once, not because of an accident- and his long hair sticking to the back of his neck, he felt so bubbly and happy on the inside. He couldn't help the way his hands flapped and his body shook and jumped. All the while, Sam was laughing along with him. It truly felt wonderful.

After they had dried off and changed, they found themselves lounging on the couch in front of the TV, a beer in each of their hands as they sat glued to the current baseball game. Bucky hummed as he leaned against Sam's shoulder, taking a swig from the glass bottle before setting it on the coffee table. The rain battered against the windows, and JARVIS had offered to sound proof the windows for them, but Bucky declined. The rhythmic chaos of the water gently pummeling the glass panes soothed his aching, haunted soul.

For just a fleeting moment, they all felt at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Bucky and Sam spend the first day of Steve being gone by going on a little date. They have a very nice time together, even when it starts raining.
> 
> Bucky, as well as the others in his system, wears protective padding under his clothes due to urinary incontinence in order to prevent accidents. These are also used for a sexual scene in a later chapter, but are considered separate from the kind they use for necesity purposes.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	2. There's a New Game We Like to Play, You See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Finally_ they were getting to the first stage of that night's scene, as the Falcon reached behind the Soldier's head and unclasped the muzzle, removing the item from his face and slipping the straps through the D-ring of his collar, keeping it close enough to ground him. He then took one of the many bottles from the bedside table, unscrewed the cap, and held the opening to the Soldier's waiting lips.
> 
> "Drink." The Falcon ordered.
> 
> And drink he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly PWP smut, showing the Soldier and Sams relationship in relation to their mutual relationship with Steve as well as how their romantic relationship differs from his relationships with the other alters of Bucky's system.
> 
> This chapter has references to past sexual abuse, but nothing graphic. This is meant to show how their relationship with Sam helps the Soldier assimilate to a much more communication and consent based relationship.
> 
> The title of this chapter is a line from the song 'Master and Servent' by Depeche Mode.

They had agreed to this. They had negotiated this. They had a mutual understanding.

It was the night of day two of the Captain's mission leave, and the Soldier was kneeling on the floor in the middle of their quarters. He was completely naked, save for the absorbent padding wrapped around his waist and between his legs, and the metal anal plug buried deep inside his ass, rubbing against his insides in a deliciously teasing way. Half of his face was covered by his grounding, protective muzzle. That was _his_ now. He stole that from Hydra, they could not take it away from him now.

The others in their system were deep asleep in the unconscious zone of their skull, leaving only the Soldier conscious and in control. This was safe, they had their precautions in place; if any of the others were to become conscious at any point during the scene, they were to use their safe word immediately, whether that was verbally or dropping the silver bell grasped firmly in the Soldier's metal hand. His upmost primary objective was to protect the others and their body from harm, whether physical, mental, or emotional.

The Soldier took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and pushed the air back out of his lungs. He was safe.

Even so, he couldn't help the sudden anxiety when the door opened to reveal the silhouette of the Falcon before him.

He was dressed in camo military slacks and a beige-green shirt, the basics of a uniform for a modern U.S. soldier. Hydra never wore such attire, especially not when working with the Soldier, or using him 'recreationally' as they called it. It was always black kevlar or black suits and ties. They had discussed this early in their relationship while negotiating these types of encounters with both the Captain and the Falcon. Understanding this, they are only to wear either their respective, recognizable combat uniforms or common modern military attire when handling the Soldier during these types of scenes. No black kevlar. No black suits. They never wanted the ones who were safe to them to feel like the people who destroyed them. Ever.

The Soldier shook the thoughts from his head before they could take hold. He was _safe_. The Falcon would not hurt him. The Falcon loves him and he loves the Falcon.

"Status report, Soldier." The Falcon spoke, stern but not unkind. It wasn't a bark like an agent looking for an excuse to punish him, it was a genuine concern for his emotional wellbeing. The Soldier felt his heart swell a little at the subtle affection.

"Green." The Soldier responded, giving his consent and willingness to the other before him. They were equals, no matter what. Any power imbalance tonight was imaginary for the sake of the scene they had both agreed to. He was safe.

"Good, do you remember what you are to say if you are no longer fully operational?" The Falcon asked, earning a nod in response. "Do you remember what to say in order to exit this exercise?" Another nod. "State it." The Falcon ordered.

"Brooklyn. Red." The Soldier was getting antsy and almost too exited, like he would shake out of his skin from the sheer anticipation. He knew the Falcon could see that and was just dragging this on, but at the same time these reminders were the most important thing in this current situation.

"And if you cannot speak these concerns?" The Falcon prodded. The Soldier shook his metal hand, eliciting a muffled _'clinkclangclink'_ from the bell grasped tight against his palm.

"Good. You drop that the moment you want or feel the need to exit this exercise, whether or not you feel like that is fair to me. This exercise is not designed to harm you, and I have no intention of doing so through negligence." That was an important point. There was an event early in their relationship where Jamesy had accidentally switched out right in the middle of an intense scene, but he did not want to interrupt the Falcon because he felt that it would be unfair because he was obviously having fun. That earned an even worse feeling of the Falcon comforting Jamesy through a horrible, flashback filled panic attack and giving the Soldier a long lecture on mutual consent and harming the others through negligence afterwards. He shook these thoughts from his head as well, not wanting the reminder of _that night_ to kill his libido tonight.

None of them wanted to repeat that awful feeling in their gut, so no matter what, the moment something happened to change how they felt about the scene for the worse, they were to state so and exit the scene immediately.

Right now, the Soldier was the only one conscious and in control, and he very much wanted to continue, the mixture of anticipation and adrenaline pooling right into his cock, pressing tight against the padding around his groin. The press of the plug nestled deep into his ass was not helping to cease the swelling of his cock in the slightest.

"Alright, stand up, Soldier." The Falcon ordered. The Soldier rose, keeping his eyes on the Falcon's chest. Both the Falcon and Captain knew not to order the Soldier to look them in the eye. They all understood and respected this. That helped the Soldier feel more comfortable, knowing he would not be forced to do things that were painful to him. He was _safe_.

The Falcon stepped forward, producing a collar and leash from his pocket, both patterned with the red, white, and blue circles of Captain's shield. The Falcon clipped the fabric around his neck, not nearly tight enough to even dig into his skin. 

_Owned and protected by the Captain and the Falcon_.

The Falcon led the Soldier to the bed by the leash clipped to his collar, and he followed obediently. He was ordered to sit on the bed and wait yet again, and despite the jittery anticipation coursing through his veins, he obeyed. He was not looking to get punished this time.

There were some scenes where he _did_ invite punishment, but those where the times where he needing something deep and dark in his chest to break the surface, leaving him broken open and sobbing in relief in the warm, gentle aftercare as he was soothed back down into a feeling of equality and somewhat stability, reminded that he was _good_.

Tonight, however, the Soldier wanted to be good from the start. He wanted to be cared for and protected. The Captain and the Falcon had reminded him many times that he did not need to earn comfort, that he deserved it no matter what. That brought him a feeling of security in his own skin. He couldn't help grinding his covered ass down into the bed, nudging and wiggling the plug inside of him to try and press against that little spot that made his toes curl and his cock twitch.

The Falcon came back to the room after what felt like an eternity, but was more likely five minutes, with several bottles of spring water in tow. He set them down on the bedside table where the lubrication and other items for later use were resting.

"Status?" The Falcon asked, placing a hand on the Soldier's knee, keeping him grounded if necessary.

"Green." The Soldier nodded, leaning towards the other. He was anxious to begin already, knowing exactly what was going to come next in the scene tonight.

The Falcon nodded, stroking his hand up and down the Soldier's thigh, so painfully close to where his cock was straining against the cloth padding. _Fuck_ he wanted this. He wanted this so bad come _on_ already!

 _Finally_ they were getting to the first stage of that night's scene, as the Falcon reached behind the Soldier's head and unclasped the muzzle, removing the item from his face and slipping the straps through the D-ring of his collar, keeping it close enough to ground him. He then took one of the many bottles from the bedside table, unscrewed the cap, and held the opening to the Soldier's waiting lips.

"Drink." The Falcon ordered.

And drink he did.

The first two bottles went down easy, filling his belly at a soothing pace. It was cool and refreshing and hydrating. A nectar of the gods.

By the fourth bottle, however, he started to feel a little fidgety, grinding against the plug inside of him to keep his mind off the swelling feeling in his pelvis. Every new gulp began to sit heavy in his guts.

By the sixth bottle, he was actively squirming, trying not to focus on the growing, needy sensation that was starting to overtake him. The water began to feel like led in his stomach, no longer cool or refreshing.

By the eighth bottle he could handle no more. His belly felt too full and he was struck with the desperate need for relief. Even grinding against the plug nestled inside of him just added to the pressure in his bladder. _Fuck_.

"No more. Please." The Soldier ground out. The purpose of this exercise was to show that he can, and _will_ , state his wishes in order to communicate what exactly he needs. He needs to prove that he can trust the other to help him and care for his needs.

"Good boy, Soldier." The Falcon hummed, leaning close to nibble his soft lips against the Soldier's neck, making him writhe as he tried desperately to focus on keeping it together.

But _fuck_ those lips felt good against the sensitive skin of his neck. The soft tickle of the other's beard and the gentle scratch of purposeful teeth _really_ didn't fucking help his focus.

Then he felt the other's hand glide across his belly to one of his pectoral muscles, gently teasing a pert nipple with the palm of his hand as his lips travelled up his jugular vein to nibble on the hard point of his jaw, and _fuck_ did that feel great.

Just when he thought he couldn't _possibly_ keep control over his bladder any longer, the Falcon pulled away, leaving him whimpering and whining for the now missing touch of the other's mouth against his skin. He felt the Falcon unclasp the muzzle from his collar and watched him securely refasten it back onto his face, helping to ground him once again. He felt like he was going to explode with need at any given moment.

However, what the Soldier saw next nearly caused him to lose control that very second.

The Falcon had reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a vibrator, just a little straight wand, no more than 3 inches in length. But he knew that would become his favorite torture device of the night.

The Falcon leaned back towards the other, pressing him up against the back wall at the head of the bed. He took the Soldier's hands into his own and pushed them until they were crossed at the wrist, caught between the Soldier's back and the sturdy wall.

"Keep them there, understood?" The Falcon hummed sternly, and the Soldier nodded, still not looking him in the eye. He wouldn't force himself to, he wanted to show the other that he trusted him enough to be comfortable with him. He did not need to look him in the eye to check if he was angry. He was _safe_.

Satisfied with that answer, the Falcon murmured an 'alright, here we go' before pressing the length of the vibrator against the underbelly of the obscene tent in the padded covering. The Soldier was confused for a moment, before he saw the other grab the tape from the bedside table.

Oh _fuck yes_.

The Falcon wrapped the tape around the tented padding, fastening the vibrator in place. The toy was pressed snug against the Soldier's trapped dick. Oh fuck this was going to hurt so _good_.

He shivered with anticipation.

Finally, fucking _finally_ , the Falcon pressed the button on the end of the vibrator, and the device buzzed to life.

"Oh _fuck_!" He couldn't help the sudden whine that escaped his lips. The agonizing, desperate urge to relieve himself was so fucking strong he could _taste it_.

"That's it Soldier, I've gotcha, just let go." The Falcon cooed, rubbing and flicking one of his nipples with his thumb as he leaned in to graze his tongue and teeth over his adams apple.

He tried so very hard to let go, but he fucking _couldn't_. He strained his muscles in a desperate attempt to find his relief but he just fucking **couldn't** no matter how hard he tried. He let out a loud, agonized whine as he desperately bucked his hips towards the vibrating sensation.

Until the Falcon grazed his hand over the Soldier's lower abdominopelvic region.

"Now, Soldat." He almost growled out his order, pressing his palm hard against the other's taut skin where his bladder was swollen with his desperation.

Then he found that he very much _could_. And he _did_.

He let out a long, pained groan as the first spurt of hot liquid forced its way from his body, soaking the padding currently trapped between his dick and the still buzzing vibrator.

Once the flood gates had been forced opened, he just couldn't help himself, losing all control as he leaned into the other, desperate for an anchor to hold him down as the overwhelming, nearly painful relief washed over his skin. Torrent after torrent of piss soaked into the padding in what seemed like a never ending waterfall, causing the vibrations to feel so much more _intense_ against his wet, sensitive cock.

 _It fucking felt like he was cumming_. It was _glorious_.

He let out a pained sob as the aggressive torrent finally died down to a slow stream. He was then reduced to oversensitive whimpers and shuttering gasps as the stream turned into a slow trickle, then a drip, then finally ended after what felt like _eons_ of soaking relief.

He sobbed into the other's shoulder, a few stray tears slipping from his eyes.

"Good boy, Soldier. Molodets, good boy." The Falcon hummed his approval, reaching down to squeeze the painfully hard tent in the now completely sodden padding between his legs. The odd squish of liquid filled padding mixed with the overwhelming vibrations was far too much for him. He yelped out at the feeling of the other's hands stroking him through the soaked material.

"Yellow. Too. Much." The Soldier bit out each word through the overwhelming sensations, unable to bear any more of the overstimulation. He was so painfully hard and his balls were drawn up tight and _aching_.

The Falcon immediately stopped, removing his hand and holding the button down to turn off the device. The Soldier groaned at the freeing lack of stimulation to his poor, tortured cock.

"Good boy, you did so very good. Let's get you out of that soaked thing." The Falcon's voice was warm and soothing. The Soldier felt like he was in a post-orgasm high, but he hadn't even orgasmed once so far that night.

The Falcon easily ripped away the tape holding the soaked material tight around his waist, pulling it away and letting his hard cock spring out of its previous bindings of tape and piss soaked cloth, angry red and throbbing and fucking _needy_.

To the Soldier's surprise, not a single drop had leaked onto the bed. That was a relief, even if they had towels underneath them to take any piss that might have leaked. That was always a worry for him, even both the Falcon and the Captain had reminded him that it would be okay.

"Status report." The Falcon asked the Soldier, wanting confirmation that the other did, in fact, want to continue.

"Green." The Soldier replied. His body felt so heavy and needy that he almost wanted to just pounce on the other and ride him into the fucking sunset. God he needed to feel the other inside of him so _badly_. The pitiful little plug inside of him was fucking _nothing_ compared to the other's cock. He thought of the other nights where the Falcon fucked him hard into the mattress while the Captain watched. Or the nights where the two took turns having their fun with him, using him in such a caring and delicious way that it felt like he could die from pure happiness and love.

 _He fucking loved them both to hell and back_.

He was shaken from his thoughts by the feeling of the other's hand grazing against his weeping, painfully hard cock, standing tall and proud between his legs.

"Such a good boy for me, you did so well Soldier," The Falcon hummed, tightening the grasp on his cock. "Such good behavior deserves a reward, I think." He stroked his cock a few moments more before leaning down and taking the head of his cock in his mouth.

 _Oh fuck_.

The Soldier whined as his hips involuntarily bucked into the other's  
mouth so fucking _desperate_ for the pleasure of the other's beautiful mouth wrapped around his practically _sobbing_ cock.

He let his head fall back as the other worked his mouth and tongue over the sensitive organ, moving his hand to gently fondle and twist the heavy balls that were drawn tight against his body. Then the Falcon did that thing with the tip of his tongue against the opening of his urethra and _**fuck**_.

"Yellow. Stop." He whined as the other immediately pulled off, his cock twitching in disapproval of the sudden lack of overwhelming pleasure. It's not that it didn't feel fucking _amazing_ , it's that he didn't want this night to end embarrassingly quickly.

"Good boy, Soldier. You're doing fantastic." The Soldier bristled at the loving praise, leaning into the other in a tight embrace as he tried to regain what little composure he had left.

"Can you tell me why you wanted to stop?" The Falcon prodded, wanting to keep the communication open.

"Don't want to-had to-I-" The Soldier was stumbling over his words, too drunk on his chemical high to get a proper wood in.

"Take your time, it's okay." The Falcon reassured, the fucking saint. After a few moments more, the Soldier tried again.

"Want to cum. With you. Inside me." The Soldier bit out, desperate for his release and to be understood.

The Falcon chuckled deep in his chest, petting his shoulder to sooth him.

"Good boy, you're doing absolutely amazing." He hummed, taking a sip from one of the water bottles left on the bedside table. "Status report."

"Green." The Soldier huffed back, moving one hand to paw at himself, desperate for some friction to sooth his achingly hard cock.

The Falcon hummed affectionately, encouraging the other to do what he needed without the fear of punishment. He was being such a very good boy.

"Alright, knees and elbows, Soldier." He ordered, and the Soldier easily obeyed, turning himself over and resting his knees on the bed, his hindquarters raised high into the air as he pillowed his head in his arms, making himself comfortable. He was allowed this. This would not invite punishment. _He was safe_.

He felt the other's hands kneading at the flesh of his soft asscheeks, squishing and spreading them like he was trying to make dough for fresh bread.

He wanted to be _bred_ , dammit!

"C'mon." The Soldier couldn't help the frustrated whine that fell from his lips, muffled by the muzzle cradling his face and the arms cradling his head. He was already so close and all this teasing and dragging on wasn't fucking _fair_.

"Gotta tell me what'cha want, Big Guy~" The Falcon hummed, a rage-inducing blend of adoration and pure _teasing_. The Soldier growled behind his muzzle, frustrated and desperate and _needy_.

"Want. Plug. Out." He all but snapped back towards the other, twisting himself to look back at him, actually purposefully catching his eyes for a moment to prove just how fucking _desperate_ he was to get fucked. "Want. Your dick. In." He snarled, fire in his eyes.

"Such a good boy~" The Falcon praised, patting his thigh. "Put your head back down, pumpkin. Let me take care of you."

The Soldier bristled at the pet name. Sure he didn't get them sometimes (he doesn't _look_ like a pumpkin, does he?), but he still appreciated the kind words and gestures of the other.

His brain was emptied of its thoughts when he felt the other's fingertips wrap around the base of the plug that sat snug in his hole. He couldn't help an involuntary gasp as the other man tugged the metal device, slowly pulling it out of him with a soft _pop_. He whined at the now empty feeling inside him, bucking his hips toward the other.

Fuck he was so horny, it fucking _hurt_.

He felt the Falcon lean over him to grab the container of lubrication from the bedside table, purposefully letting the tip of his dick poke against the back of his leg and _fuck_ he _**needed it**_. He needed it inside him by _yesterday_.

"Hurry up." The Soldier growled. He was horny and impatient and needy, sue him.

"Gotta make sure you don't get hurt, Soldier." The Falcon reasoned calmly, like we was explaining a simple math question and not teasing a sexually frustrated Winter Soldier to the edges of the universe and back. Fuck him.

Fuck him, _please_.

The Soldier sighed in relief as he felt two slick fingers press easily into him. Followed by a third, which didn't even catch on the rim of his muscles. He groaned in a mix of pleasure and annoyance as he felt the not-nearly-enough width of digits curl and press into his insides. He needed _more_.

Thanks to years of things in Hydra that he would rather not think about right now, his hole was more loose and pliable that average. Luckily, it did not cause any _unspeakable_ issues involving the primary use of said area. As well, it allowed for a lot more fun play involving some rather large objects, ranging in but not limited to: fists, large toys, knots, et cetera.

He thought of the multiple occasions where the Captain and the Falcon were both inside of him at the same time, stretching his hole so painfully _good_.

He felt his cock actively _drool_ precum at the memories and **fuck** he _**needed it**_

After the fourth slicked finger pressed into him, just barely tugging at the ring of muscles at his entrance, the Soldier could bare the teasing no longer.

"Ohh for fuck's sake **FUCK ME ALREADY!** " the Soldier all but barked behind his muzzle, twisting to glare daggers at the other behind him. "I'M SLICKED UP ENOUGH AND YOU KNOW IT SO FUCKING _**PUT YOUR COCK IN ME ALREADY** _! **GREEN**!"__

__"That's all you had to say, Big Guy~" The Falcon smirked, patting his asscheek lovingly. The teasing fucking _fuck_._ _

__His brain was too occupied with being horny and desperate to come up with any better aggressive terms. Fuck him._ _

__The Soldier whined when the fingers were pulled out of him, feeling his hole twitch with need. Thankfully, his prayers were soon to be answered as he felt the warm, blunt pressure of the other's tip against his hole, slipping in with just the tiniest bit of resistance._ _

__"Ohhh _fuck yes_ ~" He moaned out loud, feeling the other's cock slip into him like a hand into a fucking glove._ _

__One rather important detail was the fact that the Falcon and the Captain's cocks were very different. Captain's was about an inch longer than his own, thicker than Falcon's but not thicker than his own, and uncut like his. The Falcon's cock, however, was thinner than both of theirs and cut, but a good two and a half inches longer than his own. So even though it didn't stretch him out nearly as much as the Captain's (or _fuck_ , both of them _at the same time_ ), it reached inside of him a whole lot deeper, hitting sensitive buttons that left the Soldier seeing fucking _stars_ every time._ _

__The Soldier hissed as he felt the other's cock bury itself deep inside of him, feeling the flesh of the other's hips press against his rump. He groaned as he felt the other begin to pull back out, the crown of his cock grazing against his neglected prostate and _fuck this wasn't going to last long_._ _

__"That feel good, Soldier?" The Falcon hummed as he pulled almost all of the way out, leaving just the head of his cock inside of him, the crown tugging at the internal ring of muscles._ _

__"Y-ye- _DA! EYBAT! _" He barked out as the other slammed his cock back into him, hitting so fucking _deep_ inside of him. "FUCK ME! FUCK ME _PLEASE_!" He just couldn't help himself, it felt so fucking **good**.___ _

____" _Good boy, Soldier~_ " The Falcon hummed as he ground his cock into the Soldier's pliant and willing body, leaning over him to take both hands into his own, pressing down until the both of them were laying down, the Falcon blanketing the Soldier's body, keeping him _safe_. The Soldier groaned at the pressure of the other on top of him, his aching cock trapped between his own fluffy belly and the rough yet gentle fabric of the towel on the bed beneath him._ _ _ _

____It felt so fucking _amazing_._ _ _ _

____" _G-'nna c'm._ " Was all the Soldier could choke out, overwhelmed by the heavy mixture of the Falcon's cock stroking his insides, the weight of his body on top of him, and the texture of the fabric stroking his own cock with each rut against the bed to match the other's thrusts. "D-do- _fuck don't stop_ ~"_ _ _ _

____The Falcon purred as he gently grazed his lips and teeth and tongue against the side of his neck, lavishing the sensitive skin there and _fuck_ he was _gone_._ _ _ _

____" **FUCK**!!" The Soldier's body tensed and trembled as he ground his practically _tingling_ cock into the bed, _sobbing_ as his orgasm tore through his very soul, spurting thick, heavy ropes of his essence against his own belly and the semi-coarse fabric beneath him. He could feel his hole tightening around the cock inside of him as the Falcon fucked him through his intense orgasm, fucking deep against his abused prostate and whispering soft nothings and praises to him. his breath hot and tickling the shell of his ear. It was all so fucking _much_._ _ _ _

____The Soldier couldn't help the tears that trailed down his face, getting trapped in the seams where his muzzle clung tight to his face. He couldn't help the hiccuping sobs that ripped from somewhere deep in his chest as his body shuttered through the last few, desperate spurts of cum that was fucked out of his body._ _ _ _

____"D'n't stop, _please don't stop_ , cum inside me _please_ 'm sorry it was too early 'm _sorry_ -" The Soldier hiccuped and sobbed, almost incoherent as he rubbed his face into the fabric beneath him. The Falcon shushed him, grinding slowly into his body, giving him the time he desperately needed to cool down in the aftershocks of his mind-blowing orgasm._ _ _ _

____"Shhh, it's okay Soldier, no need to be sorry, you did so very good for me," The Falcon pressed soft kisses along his neck and the shell of his ear, even against the line of his jaw where the muzzle was firmly locked. It was all the same to him, all deserving of soft love and comfort. "You want me to cum inside you? Are you sure?" He whispered, always so cautious as to not hurt him. The overstimulation of post-orgasm fucking could be too much for him to handle._ _ _ _

____" _Please_." The Soldier whined, high and keening, as he bucked back against the other. " _Pleasepleaseplease **please** I need to feel it inside me_." He babbled, desperate to feel the other's completion, to know that he was the one who caused it. To know that he was _good_._ _ _ _

____The Falcon grunted as he fucked his cock into the man beneath him, fast but not ungentle, as he chased his own orgasm inside his warm, pliant, _needy_ body. The Soldier shivered hard as he felt the other tense above him, feeling his warmth flood his insides as he let out a low, deep groan, pressing his face into the Soldier's neck and shoulder as he pumped him full of his hot fluid._ _ _ _

____The two men laid there, bodies slotted together like puzzle pieces, for what felt like a lifetime. They both knew how much the Soldier loved feeling filled up, enjoyed warming the other's cock in his body and feeling it slowly go soft inside of him. The Soldier couldn't hold back the sniffling whimpers escaped him._ _ _ _

____"You did so good, Soldier," The Falcon hummed, pressing grounding, feather-light kisses to his neck. "You did absolutely _fantastic_ , molodets, I'm so proud of you."_ _ _ _

____The Soldier just couldn't handle that._ _ _ _

____His quiet whimpers evolved into deep, agonized _sobs_ that wracked through his body. He couldn't handle the warm, caring, genuine love that filled every tiny little square inch of his body and soul, like bright sunlight penetrating through even the darkest of shadows. He felt like he was drowning, but in such a wonderful way that he _never_ wanted it to stop._ _ _ _

____The Falcon knew this all too well, holding the broken-open man beneath him so close as he pressed his weight down onto his body, as if he could _squeeze_ him back together. The Soldier sobbed harder, letting the tears rain down in his brain's chemical release that he so desperately needed. He felt so warm and safe and _loved_._ _ _ _

____He never knew what love was in Hydra, but _this_ , this he knew was love. Pure, raw, surrounding, and _deep_. He could feel it in every fibre of his being._ _ _ _

____The Soldier wasn't sure how much time had passed, but by the time his sobs had reduced to sniffles and hiccups and the edges of his muzzle were soaked with the now drying tears, both he and the Falcon had gone soft, the other still buried deep inside of him, a warm anchor to keep him from floating into the stratosphere._ _ _ _

____"You doing okay buddy?" The Falcon asked. _Buddy_. They were equals once again. They always were. The Soldier let out a deep, peaceful sigh, nodding his head as he floated in his afterglow. Despite the other man laying on top of him, he felt so much _lighter_._ _ _ _

____The Falcon laughed, deep and authentic, as he lifted himself off the other just enough to pull his long-since flaccid cock out of the other, earning a pitiful whine from the Soldier in protest. The Soldier could feel the other's seed begin to drip from where they were previously connected, down the length of his perineum and to the now loose skin of his scrotum. He shivered at the not-unpleasant feeling, lolling his head to the side._ _ _ _

____"I'm not going anywhere, Big Guy, don't worry." He hummed, stroking up and down the Soldier's arms, shoulders, and back. "We do need to get you cleaned up, though. We made a bit of a mess, huh?" The Soldier leaned up onto his arms, stretching out his spine, relishing in the way his vertebrae popped back into place in such a satisfying manner._ _ _ _

____"Da, bath." The Soldier hummed, rolling over onto his back and hissing as the cool air brushed against the smeared semen that was now drying rather unpleasantly to the skin of his belly._ _ _ _

____"You want a bath? I'm sure we could do that." The Falcon smiled, helping to lift the now very tired Soldier from the warm, albeit dirty, bed. The two men made their way to the bathroom where they took their time, embracing one another as the warm water filled the tub._ _ _ _

____After slipping his muzzle off, the two slipped into the warm, cleansing water, laying slotted together in the steaming warmth. They enjoyed each others company, washing one another of the nights previous activities, before leaving the bath, draining the tub, drying off, and removing the dirty towels from the top of the bed and placing the covers back on._ _ _ _

____The Soldier, for one, was far too tired to worry about changing the sheets. He slipped into some proper protective padding and some flannel sleep bottoms before ungracefully flopping onto the bed, letting out a loud, peaceful sigh at the sensation of the cool sheets against his warm skin. He rolled over onto his side, opening his arms in a pitiful display as the Falcon laughed, crawling into the bed with him. He pulled the covers over the both of them as the Soldier cuddled against his chest, wrapping his arms around him like an oversized koala._ _ _ _

____"Goodnight, Soldier." The Falcon hummed, pulling the draw string to the lamp on the bedside table, entrenching them in comforting darkness._ _ _ _

____"Spacibo. Spokoinoy noche, Sam." The Soldier hummed, nuzzling against the other's chest._ _ _ _

____This was a very good night indeed._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**
> 
> Molodets: Good boy (mostly meant for dogs)  
>    
> Soldat: Soldier
> 
> Eybat: Fuck
> 
> Spacibo: Thank you
> 
> Spokoinoy noche: Goodnight
> 
> If any of these are incorrect, please feel free to correct me in the comments.
> 
> **Brief Explainations**
> 
> In this series, the Soldier experiences hypersexual tendencies due to trauma at the hands of Hydra. With the help of therapy, grounding techniques, and loving and supportive partners, he is able to safely fufil his sexual urges without harming himself or the other system-mates.  
>    
> This is based on **personal experiences** as a traumagenic DID system, and is not meant to explain or educate every case of DID. No two people, or their experiences, are exactly the same.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	3. If You Give a Bear a Balloon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh no, oh no buddy here, here." Uncle Sam mumbled, rushing to the table to help cut the pancakes into bite sized pieces. If this were literally _any_ of the others in the system, they would be deeply embarrassed. They never _dared_ to act so helpless and vulnerable.
> 
> But this was _Winnie_ , the split created as a way for them to _let_ themselves feel vulnerable. They didn't ask for a split that projected himself onto a plush toy and had the mental capacity of a helpless young child, but that's just where they were now, and it would be unfair to Winnie to try and change him to fit their ideas of a 'proper' alter.
> 
> Besides, he existed for a reason. The same as the rest of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like many other stories in this series, this piece is based on personal experiences as a person living with DID as well as being on the autism spectrum.
> 
> This chapter is the first piece in this series from Winnie's point of view, which leads to a very unreliable narrator, as he has the smallest mental capacity out of everyone within the Winter System. A bear of very little brains, as they say.
> 
> This chapter's title is based on the book 'If You Give a Mouse a Cookie', by Laura Numeroff.

"Grump." A little voice huffed from under the covers.

Uncle sam looked over from where he was laying on his side of the bed.

"Hm? You up?" He sounded very tired, rubbing his eyes a bit before smiling at him.

"Hrmph." He huffed, curling up towards him. He felt too tired to exist today, limbs heavy and the world a little foggy, like some of his stuffing got in his ears.

Non-verbal noises? Talking about stuffing? Sleepy and small-feeling? Oh boy.

Today was a Winnie day.

They were always a little dissociated when they first woke up, like a computer booting up and loading the 'profile' page first. Some days it took them all day to figure out who was in control, and some no one was in control at all for the whole day. Those ones were terrible.

But some days, like today, they woke up and almost immediately knew who was in control just by how their body felt. Today, their body was warm and cozy and far too tired, feeling 240 pounds lighter and four feet shorter. He felt less human and more like a warm, tired, soft little ball of fluff. So today was a Winnie day. He reached around the bed until he felt the foot of his plush bear, pulling it to his chest and snuggling it tight. That bear was what he projected himself onto, how he saw himself, how he felt despite the obvious differences between the soft bundle of fabric and the hard definition of muscle and steel that was their physical form. Brains are strange things.

"Alright, better start getting up." Uncle Sam sat up, stretching his arms high above his head. The movement earned a whine of protest from the little teddy, reaching out to wrap his arms around the other's waist to keep him in bed with him.

"N'uuuh." Winnie whimpered. He wanted to stay snuggled in bed all day, maybe tomorrow too.

"C'mon little guy," Uncle Sam pat his shoulder through the covers. "Daddy's coming home tomorrow, remember? Don't you wanna do something nice for when he gets home?"

Winnie fell out of the bed, scrambling up so fast that the covers got caught around his legs.

"Oh! Are you okay?!" Uncle Sam lept out of the bed, helping the little teddy up off the floor.

Now, here was the thing about their system; everyone within it had different mental capacities. As well, they all had different levels of pain tolerance. The Soldier was the best at it, he could handle almost anything that he wasn't actively afraid of- wasp stings, eugh- and would barely bat an eye. Bucky could handle most things, but would actively react if the pain was too much. Jamesy was just a four year old little boy (sometimes three, sometimes four _and a half_ , it depended on the day), he had difficulties handling larger amounts of pain, but little things like bumping his knees or falling out of bed were no big deal.

But Winnie, Winnie was a little teddy bear. An awfully small little creature, more of a two year old child or younger depending on the day. Today seemed to be more of a one and a half year old day instead.

Winnie could _not_ handle pain. Not in the slightest.

He couldn't help the deep, sudden feeling of fear and anguish that bloomed in his chest. It started as a soft gasp, followed by a keening whine...

Followed by a loud, almost terrified howl.

Uncle Sam quickly opened his arms, letting the terrified little teddy practically crush into his chest as he sobbed. Poor Sam now had to deal with 260 pounds of upset _toddler_ crushing his chest. Winnie and Jamesy were the _worst_ at remembering that their body was not nearly as small as they felt.

"There there, it's okay buddy, there's not even a bruise." Uncle Sam desperately tried to calm him down, really not wanting to deal with his crying all day.

It took a few minutes of soothing, but Winnie was finally calmed, just sniffling and whimpering instead of openly sobbing.

"There we go, there's my little boy." Uncle Sam cooed, rubbing his back soothingly. Winnie sighed, sitting back to breathe a little on his own, before noticing the uncomfortable squish of wet padding beneath him. Blech.

"Uhmph." Was all he could manage out. If Soldier wasn't the chatterbox of the system, then Winnie was the silencer of the system. Quiet save for a few huffs, mumbles, and squeaks. The therapists called it 'non-verbal selective mutism', he heard the Soldier's voice in the back of their head reminding them of that. They were lucky if he could get even just a few coherent words out through the entire day.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, we better get you ready for the day, huh little guy?" Uncle Sam heard that type of huff enough times to know exactly why he was uncomfortable and upset, and knew the best way to avoid a total meltdown of embarrassment from the rest of them was to keep Winnie calm and happy. He helped the little teddy up, and thankfully today was one of the days where Winnie could keep his balance and walk. Usually, the days where he couldn't even manage that weren't so bad, but only if Daddy was around to carry him. Sam couldn't exactly lift their body the way Steve could, so on the days where he couldn't and Daddy _wasn't_ around, they were basically destined to sit on the couch all day until either bedtime or someone who _could_ walk properly switched out.

By the time that Uncle Sam had helped Winnie get cleaned up, dressed, and ready to start the day, Winnie had already found himself a cozy little spot on the couch, curled up and unwilling to do anything else. Baby teddy bears need their sleep, thank you very much!

"C'mon little guy, I'm making pancakes~" Uncle Sam tried to coax the tired little teddy off of the couch. Once he got moving, Winnie could run circles around him. The problem was actually _getting him moving_.

"Hmph." Winnie huffed, curling up tighter around himself. He was clutching his ever cherished plush bear to his chest. 

"Oh well, guess I'll have to eat _all_ these chocolate chip pancakes _all_ by myself~" Uncle Sam teased, smiling as the little teddy lifted his head. Chocolate chip pancakes were a known favorite.

"Uh huh, with bananas~" That really got the little teddy up and bumbling towards the table.

That is, until he tripped over his own foot and landed face first against the laminate flooring of the kitchen.

That earned yet another session of 'try to calm down the loudly sobbing teddy bear' for beloved Uncle Sam.

This was gonna be one of those days.

After the crying had finally subsided, and the pancakes were finished cooking on the flat top griddle, Winnie was presented with a plate full of fluffy chocolate chip and banana pancakes, smothered to high heaven with honey. He gasped at the sight, then whimpered, trying to pick up the sticky pastries with his hands, or _paws_ , as he saw them. That just earned him a bunch of sticky honey all over him, but he didn't care. He wanted those pancakes in his tummy by yesterday.

"Oh no, oh no buddy here, here." Uncle Sam mumbled, rushing to the table to help cut the pancakes into bite sized pieces. If this were literally _any_ of the others in the system, they would be deeply embarrassed. They never _dared_ to act so helpless and vulnerable.

But this was _Winnie_ , the split created as a way for them to _let_ themselves feel vulnerable. They didn't ask for a split that projected himself onto a plush toy and had the mental capacity of a helpless young child, but that's just where they were now, and it would be unfair to Winnie to try and change him to fit their ideas of a 'proper' alter.

Besides, he existed for a reason. The same as the rest of them.

After the pancakes were cut into small chunks and Uncle Sam had presented him with a plastic fork, Winnie wasted no time in shoveling the delicious morsels of pancake into his mouth. He only spared moments of non-pancake-mouth-stuffing to wash down the sweet breakfast with the milk in the sippy cup on the table next to his plate. Once he had plenty of milk, it was back to pancake-mouth-stuffing.

Soon enough, Winnie had finished off his pancakes and milk, trying to lick the sticky honey off of his han- _paws_. Uncle Sam sighed softly at the sight of him, walking over with a wet cloth to help wipe away the mess of chocolate and honey that had managed its way across his face. He crinkled his nose as the lukewarm, damp cloth gently rubbed at his now smooth cheeks. (The little ones didn't like having scruff on their face the way Bucky and the Soldier did, so often times one of them would shave for them before hand if they knew there was a chance of one of them coming out for a while. If they could not do so, then Daddy or Uncle Sam could help instead).

After his face and paws were sufficiently cleaned, it was time to change his clothes once again, as his shirt was definitely not spared from the wrath of chocolate chip pancake Armageddon. So Uncle Sam led him back to the room, helping him change into a fresh, clean shirt that was free of pancakes or honey. A soft blue shirt with a bear face printed on the front in white. Subtle, but Winnie didn't really notice or care. He just liked that it was blue and soft. His paw found its way to the hem of the shirt, fidgeting with the fabric as he followed Uncle Sam back to the living room.

"So Daddy should be home tomorrow morning," Uncle Sam began, making sure he got the teddy's attention before continuing. "How about we do something nice to welcome him home?"

Winnie pondered for a moment, staring at the floor and fidgeting with his shirt. He really missed Daddy, they all did. Daddy deserved something nice for when he came back. But what?

An idea suddenly popped into their head. A red balloon! 

'Why a red balloon?' He heard Bucky's voice somewhere in the back of his head.

" 'unno." Winnie hummed in response, not noticing Uncle Sam's reaction to him.

"No ideas?" Uncle Sam asked, earning a fast head shake of 'no' from the teddy. "Oh? So you _do_ have an idea?"

Winnie nodded, trying desperately to think of a way to say his idea, but that heavy lead ball was back in his mouth, or like his mouth was stitched shut. He couldn't speak and could barely make a noise at all.

But he could draw.

Winnie fumbled off the couch, Uncle Sam steadying him to hopefully avoid yet another session of 'calm the crying teddy', and ran to their room, snatching a box of crayons and a notepad from a nearby desk. He stumbled back onto the couch and scribbled the best he could onto the notepad paper, handing the paper to Uncle Sam once he was satisfied with the image.

Uncle Sam stared at the pad for a moment.

"...Oh! A balloon?" He finally got it, and Winnie squeaked and nodded, bouncing in his excitement.

"I'm sure he'd like that, how about we go down to the shops and get one?" Winnie was already stumbling to their room for his shoes. Sam sighed out a laugh as he stood up from the couch, following the little teddy.

The world was cool and sunny and windy, a perfect day for Winnie to wear his fluffy brown bear jacket. Said jacket was a brown, faux fur zipper hoodie with a round ball of fur for a tail and two little round ears sewn to the top of the hood. It was his and his alone.

It also served as a great disguise, no one would ever suspect the infamous and dangerous Winter Soldier to be wearing a cutesy fluffy teddy bear jacket. (And technically, they would be right. The Soldier would be caught _dead_ wearing such a ridiculous thing.)

Winnie walked with Uncle Sam down the sidewalks of the city, never letting go of his hand. They passed by many interesting sights and sounds: birds singing their poetic symphonies, bright flowers nestled in the green leaves of the trees, relaxed people strolling by without a care in the world, and stuffy business men in suits shuffling past with seemingly every care in the world. Winnie greatly enjoyed the city, every day was a new adventure to him.

Uncle Sam led him to the supermarket, turning the corner to walk through the doors that opened all on their own. That never ceased to amaze the little teddy. Bucky or the Soldier could explain how it works to him a bazillion times, but he never remembered. Every time he saw them, it was like magic.

"Here, do you wanna carry the basket?" Uncle Sam offered the basket to him, and he took the handle in his grey paw, holding it tight but not too tight. There were times he accidentally held things too tight in his grey paw. That's how he broke his favorite sippy cup that Daddy had to replace. He felt very bad about that. That he remembered.

The two walked through the store, hand in hand, as Uncle Sam picked up different things. Some things, he put in the basket that Winnie was holding tight-but-not-too-tight. Other things, he put back on the shelf. Winnie never really understood why the big year olds did things like that, not even when Bucky or the Soldier did the same or tried to explain it to him. That's just the way he was, a teddy of very little brain. Hey, he had the same name as that bear too!

Winnie swayed next to Uncle Sam, distracted by his own thought that flowed in every which direction, before he spotted something behind a glass wall. It was round but flat on top, kind of white with swirly red lines all over it, and funny looking white things sticking up on the top.

A cake! Daddy should have a cake!

"Mmmh, mmhh." Winnie hummed quietly, knowing enough to not be loud in stores. They all _hated_ being stared at by strangers. He tugged gently on Uncle Sam's hand, not wanting to accidentally hurt him.

"Hm? What is it buddy?" Uncle Sam looked up from where he was staring at a can of beans. Why did big year olds always stare at cans when they could just grab the one with the prettiest color?

Between holding Uncle Sam's hand with one paw, and holding the basket tight-but-not-too-tight in the other, he didn't have a paw left to point at what he saw. He couldn't say this very well, and he couldn't show it very well either, and that made him very angry. He puffed his cheeks as he tried to think of a way to explain this.

Uncle Sam must have seen how upset and frustrated he was getting, and tried to figure out what he was looking at to avoid a frustration and overstimulation melt down. "Oh, the bakery is right there, did you see something over there?" He asked.

Bakery! That was the word! Winnie nodded, tugging his hand a little again.

"Okay, okay, one second." Uncle Sam hummed, grabbing a different can of beans from the shelf and putting it in the basket. That can did not have nearly as many pretty colors on it as the first one. Why were big year olds so confusing?

They had finally made their way over to the bakery of the supermarket, and Winnie was able to show exactly which cake he had seen that got him so excited.

"Ooo, raspberry swirl, you think Daddy would like that?" Uncle Sam asked quietly, looking at the little paper thing in front of the cake that had letters on it that Winnie didn't understand. He nodded quickly, and Uncle Sam smiled at him.

"Good choice." He hummed before getting the attention of one of the people behind the glass shelf. Winnie stared at the pretty swirls of the cake, and being up close, he could see that the funny looking things that were sticking up out of the top of the cake looked a lot like the flowers he had seen on the trees outside. And you know what they say about giving a mouse a cookie...

"Fl'wers." Winnie piped up, the only word he could manage out today. Uncle Sam looked over to him while the lady behind the glass shelf walked to a bigger shelf-looking thing.

"What was that? Flowers?" Uncle Sam asked, wanting to be sure he heard the little teddy correctly. Winnie nodded, looking around to see if he could find any flowers.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure Daddy would love some flowers." He hummed before turning back to the baker-lady, who handed him a big white box and a little piece of paper. "Here, Winnie, let me hold the basket." He offered, and Winnie easily handed the now kind of heavy basket over to the other, glad to have a free paw now.

They walked around the supermarket, and at some point Uncle Sam traded the basket he was carrying for an even bigger basket on wheels that Bucky called a cart. Now Winnie could hold his hand _and_ point at things while Uncle Sam picked up things and stared at them. They had finally found a whole area full of flowers, all different shapes and colors and in funny looking wrapping.

There were so many different flowers, it was immediately too overwhelming for the little teddy. He whimpered, holding Uncle Sam's hand just a little tighter.

"Hmm, lets see..." Uncle Sam would know what to do, he is very smart, just like Daddy. They both always knew what to do. Okay, maybe sometimes they didn't, but it's okay because it would always be good in the end. It always was.

"Ah, here we go!" Uncle Sam picked up a big, big, **big** thing of lots of different flowers. Some where red, some where white, and some where blue. He knew those colors because Daddy wore those colors and had a big circle with those colors!

Winnie nodded his approval of the flowers, grinning bright and unabashed, which earned him a big smile from Uncle Sam, and that made him even _more_ happy. He was a very happy teddy.

The two walked through the supermarket some more, looking at lots of different boxes and cans and weird shaped things on shelves, all with bright colors and funny looking letters. Some had pictures of things with eyes, and some had drawings with eyes, and Winnie didn't like that. He felt like the eyes were looking at him, listening to him, thinking that he looked stupid. He whined at the sudden thoughts, trying to hide his face against Uncle Sam's shoulder.

"Hm? What's wrong buddy? Too much stuff? Need a break?" Uncle Sam rubbed his paw with his thumb, and that helped him feel a little better. He thought for a moment, then nodded his head. He needed a break to calm down, there was too much stuff around him right now. Too many exciting things and different noises and bright lights, which were all starting to make his head hurt and his tummy feel like it was in the tumble dryer. He remembered that the Soldier always called this kind of feeling 'overstimulation'. He never got the name, but he sure did understand the feeling.

"Okay, lets go sit down, yeah?" Uncle Sam whispered softly, leading him to the part of the store near the funny doors that open all by themselves. There were lines of people with lots of things, but there were also benches. Uncle Sam led him to one of the benches and sat down with him, letting him curl up around himself and fidget with his zipper to calm himself down.

All of them had felt this kind of feeling before, even the Soldier. It felt like everything around them was suddenly too bright and too loud and too _everything_ all at once. It made their head hurt and feel really fuzzy, and it made them feel really upset for what seemed like no reason. There where even times they got very, very upset while feeling like this and got very, very mad and scared and started crying and huffing. The nice people that they all had to talk to once a week called it a 'meltdown', and said that it happens to people like them who have brains that think differently from other people.

Mister Bruce said that he feels like that sometimes too because they both have brains that think a little different than other people, and that's okay. Daddy had told them lots of times that the person he knew a long, long time ago was the same way, and that how their brain worked wasn't a bad thing made up by the bad people who hurt them and made them all exist together like this. But it was all very confusing grown up stuff that the big year olds talked about.

By the time he looked up, calmed from letting his brain wander, there were all new people in the big lines with all different stuff. But Uncle Sam was still right next to him, smiling at him.

"Hey there, feeling any better Winnie?" He asked softly, holding out his hand in case Winnie wanted to hold it again.

His head didn't hurt or feel funny anymore, and his tummy didn't feel like it was in the tumble dryer anymore, and he didn't feel upset anymore, so he was feeling better. He nodded and took the other's hand. Uncle Sam smiled and stood up, helping the little teddy to stand up with him. They walked from the bench around to the other side of the big lines of people, and then they stood there and waited. And waited. And waited.

Winnie couldn't help his eyes wandering around the store, looking at the clothes of the different people and the books that had different people's faces on them with big, funny looking letters and words. He could read the word 'fat' on one book, and the letters C, B and D on another. They were all very confusing books. He liked the books that Daddy and Uncle Sam read to him for bedtime, they had pretty pictures and things he could kind of understand.

The two walked forward when the person in front of them walked forward, and then they waited some more. Winnie sighed a little as he swayed on his feet-paws, until he spotted a funny looking box on a shelf next to them. It was a blue wrapper with a picture of a red thing on it that kind of looked like a pacifier but if it was made to look like one of the pretty rocks that Misses Pepper had on her desk. Candy.

"P'lee's?" Winnie tugged on Uncle Sam's hand while pointing at the candy on the shelf, getting his attention from where he was staring at one of the weird books with the letters C, B, and D on it.

"Hm? What is it little guy?" He asked, looking to where the little teddy was pointing. "Oh, ringpop? You want one?" He asked, making sure he knew what he was asking for.

Winnie nodded his head, whimpering out another "p'lee's", trying so very hard to be polite and ask nicely like Daddy and Uncle Sam and Bucky had told him to.

"Okay, since you asked so nicely." Uncle Sam smiled, picking up the candy and handing it to him. "Don't open it until we pay for it, okay?"

"'kay." Winnie managed to get out, looking down at the wrapped candy in his hands. He sort of understood why big year olds like to stare at things in the store now, they had pretty pictures and he could read the word 'pop' on the wrapper. He looked to the picture of the candy, bright red and-

 _The balloon_! He completely forgot about the balloon!

They were already at the front of the line, and all of the things that Uncle Sam had picked up were now moving all on their own while a nice looking man grabbed them and the computer made a loud 'beep' noise. Uncle Sam had taken the candy he was holding and it was now moving with the other things to the beeping computer. He began to fret, looking around for a way to explain what they had forgotten.

"Oh," Uncle Sam had begun, talking to the man behind the computer. "Can I get that red balloon behind you?"

Winnie looked behind the man, and to his surprise, there was a whole bunch of balloons behind him! They were all different colors but there was only one red one that he could see. The man behind the computer smiled and grabbed the red string, bringing the red balloon to them and handing it to him. He was a little scared, not expecting to be handed something, but he took the string and felt Bucky say 'Thank you' though his mouth.

All of the stuff they had gotten were then put into bags, and Uncle Sam handed him the now unwrapped candy. Winnie smiled and popped the candy into his mouth, suckling on it and enjoying the sweet flavor and pointy but not painful textures. It was like a pacifier, but better, he thought.

"Here, Winnie," Uncle Sam made a funny loop in the string of the balloon and slipped it around his grey paw. "That way it wont float away on us." He smiled, which made Winnie smile back, as they began walking back home.

All in all, it was a good day for the little teddy bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **References:**
> 
> The 'bear of very little brain' line is a reference to Winnie the Pooh.
> 
> The 'When you give a mouse a cookie' line is a reference to the book 'If you give a mouse a cookie'.
> 
> The letters on the magazine that Winnie reads out are CBD, in reference to CBD hemp oil, a common topic for tabloid magazines.
> 
> **Brief Explanations:**
> 
> In this story, Winnie is the 'youngest' alter in their system, viewing himself as a Bucky Bear plush due to their brain projecting onto a physical version of the plush, causing a split from their trauma. It is less common for system littles, or child parts, to have a mindset closer to infancy than an older, more independent child, but it is not unheard of.
> 
> Brains that dissociate form many methods of escapism in order to dissociate from the trauma they experience, one method being to 'project' their emotions or traumatic experiences onto an object, fictional character, or another person. This type of alter is often referred to as an 'introject', and are not uncommon in many types of systems. 
> 
> In this story, Winnie exhibits symptoms of overstimulation, as a result of their brain being on the autism spectrum. This was not caused by trauma, and is instead a part of how their brain has always been, as stated in both this story as well as 'The Part in which Bucky and Company Suffer Through Quarantine Together', which can be found here https://archiveofourown.org/works/23529313.
> 
> Autism is a neurodevelopmental difference in the brain, and is not something inherently bad or child-like. Winnie behaving like a young child stems from him being a child alter and has nothing to do with them being on the spectrum. The reason Winnie seems to behave differently from the others is because he experiences emotions and stimulation the way a young child does, leading to emotions and feelings that, while the others are used to and can usually express easily, are very difficult for him to explain or understand without help.
> 
> All of the alters within the Winter System exhibit behaviors that line up with certain common features of people on the autism spectrum, such as 'stimming' (hand flapping, fidgeting, jumping in place, etc.), experiencing overstimulation from visual, auditory, or physical stimuli, an unease/uncomfortable feeling around eyes or other people looking at them, and so on and so fourth.
> 
> These are all based on **personal experiences** and are not meant to explain or educate about DID or Autism Spectrum Neurodivergency. These are all examples from our own experiences, and will not apply to all cases of DID or autism. No two people, or their experiences, are the same, so no two cases will be the same.


	4. Three Cups of  Wholesome, and a Heaping Tablespoon of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Unfortunately there was a bit of a mess up in the flight schedule, and we can't get the quinjet off the ground for another few hours. I'm gonna be home soon, but it'll be a bit after your bedtime by the time I actually get back to the tower. I'm so sorry, Sam told me all about the-" He was cut off by a sniffle.
> 
> "Oh, oh lamb are you okay?" Daddy asked through the phone, sounding so worried.
> 
> No, no he was _not_ okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter of this story. This story is based _extremely loosely_ on personal abandonment issues and separation anxiety, as well as difficulties with internal-system communication. Other than that, this story is pure fluff with a dash of hurt/comfort.

Jamesy was sitting at the dinner table, chin resting in his metal hand. He sighed, dejected, as he stroked his flesh fingers over the soft petals of the flowers in the vase before him.

He fully expected Daddy to be home by now, and now there was an awful, gnawing, anxious feeling in his tummy. What if Daddy got hurt? Or _killed_? Or just didn't love him anymore and was dumping him on Uncle Sam to live with forever instead. What would stop Uncle Sam from dumping him on the side of the road to be someone else's problem? Who could love such a _disgusting horrible wicked little boy_?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Uncle Sam's voice. He was talking to someone, but no one else was here. He turned around to look over to him.

"Uh huh?" He hummed into the phone, staring at the wall as he listened. "...No I get it man, you- uh huh." He paused again, eyes flickering around the room as he listened. "...Yeah no it's cool, it's- huh? Yeah?" He looked over to Jamesy, which made him squirm a little in his seat. He was in trouble. He _had_ to be in trouble. Daddy was leaving him and never coming back and-

"Yeah, yeah he's right here, hang on." Uncle Sam took the phone away from his own ear and handed it to Jamesy. "It's Daddy, he wants to tell you what's up." He explained. Jamesy felt his heart plummet to his toes as he held the phone like a brick of Uranium. He slowly, shakily, held the phone up to his ear.

"...hi?" He tried so very hard to be good, to not say anything bad. Maybe if he behaved very extra good then Daddy would change his mind and wouldn't leave him and-

"Jamesy? Hey there buddy." Daddy's voice rang through the speaker, and Jamesy almost broke down in tears right there. It had only been four days and he already missed Daddy's voice so dearly.

"Look, I'm really, really sorry. I know I promised that I would be home in four days, but," Daddy sighed, it sounded so tired and weighed down. Here it comes, here was the moment where Daddy would tell him he's leaving and doesn't love him anymore and never wants to see him again. Jamesy braced himself for the inevitable worst.

"Unfortunately there was a bit of a mess up in the flight schedule, and we can't get the quinjet off the ground for another few hours. I'm gonna be home soon, but it'll be a bit after your bedtime by the time I actually get back to the tower. I'm so sorry, Sam told me all about the-" He was cut off by a sniffle.

"Oh, oh lamb are you okay?" Daddy asked through the phone, sounding so worried.

No, no he was _not_ okay.

"...I w'nt y'u home already." Jamesy was whining, and that's what bad boys do, but he just couldn't _help it_. He felt so scared that Daddy would leave him forever and he just wanted him home already. He woke up so early because he was so excited that Daddy would be back and they would have the cake that Winnie had picked out for him yesterday and and _and_ -

Jamesy couldn't keep the tears from slipping out, or the sobs from escaping his lips.

" _I miss y'u, Daddy..._ " He tried so very hard to get his words out, but they were high pitched and cracked with anguish.

"Oh Jamesy," Daddy sounded so sad and hurt, and Jamesy knew he did bad. He shouldn't be crying, now Daddy _definitely_ wouldn't change his mind about leaving him forever. "I know, I miss you too, I miss you and Sam so very much. I wish I was home already so I could hug you all so tight _and_ -" Daddy's voice cracked, now he was crying too. He did so very, very bad. He made Daddy _cry_.

Uncle Sam rubbed his shoulder gently, holding out his hand so Jamesy could give it back to him. He really didn't want the last time he heard Daddy's voice to be of him crying, and he felt so very awful, but he sniffled and handed the phone back.

"Steve, you there? Hey man..." Uncle Sam walked away to talk to Daddy in the other room, probably about how Jamesy was such a horrible boy who made people cry and manipulated people into caring about him. He couldn't help the noises that escaped him as another sob wracked through his body. He pillowed his head in his arms on the table, letting himself cry into them. He was so _horrible_.

'Jamesy, shhhh,' He heard the Soldier's voice from somewhere deep in his head. 'It's going to be okay.'

"It doesn' _feel_ ok'y..." Jamesy whimpered, trying to wipe the tears away, but it was about as useful as swiping a hand through the ocean. That doesn't stop the waves.

Uncle Sam came back after what felt like only a few seconds, but the clock on the oven read that it had been ten minutes since the last time he checked it. Time was too confusing.

"Here, Jamesy, Daddy wants to talk to you again." Uncle Sam explained, handing him the phone once again. He took it, now clinging to it like it was his Daddy's lifeline. He held it up to his ear once again.

"Jamesy? You there buddy?" Daddy's voice rang through once again.

"Mhm..." Was all he could manage out.

"Hey, sorry about that earlier, I know you miss me, I miss you too." Daddy sighed in thought before he continued. "I promise I'll be back home as soon as I possibly can. Even if you're already in bed, I'll be there and I'll give you a big, warm hug. I promise." Daddy sounded almost desperate, as if proving how much he missed them would somehow make the quinjet be able to take off right now and get them home in the blink of an eye.

"...Promise y'u aren't leavin' m' forev'r?" Jamesy whimpered. He knew he was being so _awful_ , but he just couldn't help it. He felt so very scared and uncertain and unsteady.

"Oh lamb, of _course_ I'm not leaving you forever." Daddy sounded almost sad, like hearing Jamesy's fears hurt him. "I would _never_ do that to you, not you or Sam or _anyone_ else. I swear on my life."

That made Jamesy feel just a little better. He was about to speak, but then he heard noises on the other end of the phone.

" _What?_ " Daddy's voice sounded a little fuzzy, like it was far away. "... _Okay hang on_. Jamesy? You still there? I'm so sorry pal, but I have to go now. I promise I'll be back home as soon as I possibly can. I love you so much, Jamesy." Daddy's voice was quick and rushed as more noises filtered through the speaker.

"I love y'u, Daddy." Jamesy whimpered before the line disconnected. He sighed and handed the small brick of bad news back to Uncle Sam. Great, now Daddy wasn't gonna be back until after his _bedtime_. It was practically a whole extra day of Daddy being gone!

Uncle Sam was looking at him, he could feel it. He must think that he is a horrible, ungrateful little brat. He had done so much for them these past few days and now he was crying and being manipulative and asking for his Daddy back when Uncle Sam had been so kind and caring.

He just couldn't _win_.

"Hey, I know this all really stinks," Uncle Sam crowched down so he was at eye level with the crying, shameful excuse of a little boy on the chair in front of him. "But Daddy wouldn't want you crying all day because of him, now would he?"

Jamesy thought for a moment, sniffling back a few tears. But his brain was too cloudy and occupied with thoughts of Daddy hating him and leaving him to rot. He just shrugged.

"Of course he wouldn't, you know Daddy wants you to feel safe and happy." Uncle Sam smiled, and Jamesy couldn't help the small, watery smile that took hold of his face at the sight. Sam's smile was always contagious. "You've had a good cry now, and that's very good, but I think now's the time to start calming down so we can think of something else nice to do for Daddy. What do you think?"

Jamesy thought for a minute. He still had lots of emotions swimming in his chest and his tummy and his head. He didn't feel quite ready to stop crying yet.

"...Five mor' minutes, wit' y'u holdin' m'?" Jamesy sniffled, keeping his eyes locked on the floor.

"Alright, that sounds fair. Come here." Uncle Sam opened his arms as he sat more comfortably on the floor, and Jamesy climbed off the chair and onto the floor with him, snuggling against his chest as the other wrapped his arms around him, warm and tight and _safe_. It was safe to cry, Uncle Sam or Daddy wouldn't hate him for that.

So he let himself cry, wringing out the last bit of chemical release he needed.

Truth be told, it was extremely difficult for them to feel normal again after crying. Their emotions always clung to them like that stubborn sticky stuff on the back of a sticker; you try to pull it off, and it just makes a bigger mess without really going away.

But this time, he would try. He would try for Daddy.

After the five minutes where up- which felt like only two seconds, but Uncle Sam was keeping track of the time- he sniffled as the last few tears tracked down his cheeks.

"There you go, feel ready to keep going now?" Uncle Sam asked, rubbing his back in slow, soothing strokes. He sniffled once more and nodded, rubbing his now raw and puffy eyes.

"Good boy, I'm so proud of you." He hummed, pulling him into a tight-but-not-too-tight hug. "Alright, what do you think would make Daddy feel better for when he gets home?"

Jamesy sat and thought. They already got a cake and flowers and a red balloon that was, thankfully, still floating. What else could they possibly get for him?

"...'ve got nothin'..." Jamesy sighed, absolutely defeated. He wasn't exactly his most creative after an avoided panic attack.

"That's alright, I'm sure you'll think of something." Uncle Sam hummed, patting his back before standing up, helping the little boy back to his feet.

Jamesy sighed, wandering to the couch to try and think of what to do. He wanted so desperately to change Daddy's mind so he wouldn't abandon him. 

'He's not gonna abandon us, kid.' Bucky's voice pierced through the fog of anxiety and depression that surrounded their head. 

'Wha' if he _does_?' Jamesy's voice whined back in their head, just so very afraid. He really didn't want to be left alone again.

'But he _wont_. You have to trust Steve.' Bucky sounded so very sure.

'He left me in the ravine.' The Soldier's voice snarled from somewhere deeper.

'Don't start with me on that.' Bucky growled back. 'He tried to save us and you know it. He's here now, that's all that matters.'

Their voices grew louder and louder in their head, their mild disagreement evolving into bitter aggression and animalistic hostility towards one another. They were both hurting, all of them were. They were all in pain from deep scars that would never properly heal. They all feared being abandoned, left for dead by the ones they trusted most, and they all dealt with that fear in their own, albeit most likely unhealthy, ways.

" **YOU WOULDN'T BE IN THIS FUCKING TOWER IF IT WASN'T FOR STEVE. HE FUCKING SAVED YOUR ASS FROM ROTTING IN _PRISON_. BE FUCKING GRATEFUL YOU PIECE OF SHIT.**" Bucky's voice barked through their mouth, and Jamesy couldn't help the startled yelp that escaped their lips not a moment later. None of them realized just how emotional they got until someone accidentally used their mouth to speak instead of keeping it in their head.

"Bucky? You alright?" Uncle Sam was over in an instant, worried that they had gotten hurt. Or, according to the Soldier, he was angry that Bucky used their mean, outdoor shouting voice inside the apartment.

Jamesy was so scared, forced to listen to the two grown ups fight louder and louder inside of their head. It felt like they were having a screaming match in an echo chamber, just getting louder and louder until it physically _hurt_.

He couldn't handle this.

" _help_." He whimpered, so quiet and scared and _hurt_. Uncle Sam was with him on the couch in an instant, letting him curl up into his chest as he trembled.

"Shhh, it's gonna be okay, buddy." Uncle Sam tried his very best to comfort the frightened boy. He didn't know how to handle protecting someone from people fighting _in their own head_ , and he felt completely helpless, trying to figure out what to do to remedy the situation.

'Good going, fuckstick.' Bucky's voice growled. 'Sam doesn't need to deal with this. He doesn't deserve having to deal with our bullshit. All thanks to you. Fucking broken useless-'

" _st'p_." Jamesy whimpered, clinging tighter to the other's shirt in a desperate attempt to hide away from the angry men dogfighting inside of their suddenly overcrowded skull.

"Bucky, I don't know what you're yelling about in there," Uncle Sam began, hoping he was going in the right direction to help get Jamesy calm and safe again. "But it needs to stop. _Now_." He sounded so stern, trying desperately to balance the gentle he needed to not scare the poor child anymore than he already was, and the authority he needed to stop whatever was scaring him to begin with.

This was so _difficult_.

"...Sorry." Bucky's voice mumbled from their mouth, followed suit by Jamesy whimpering and rubbing his face against Uncle Sam's shirt.

"Shhh, it's okay, it'll be okay." Uncle Sam tried his best to soothe the little boy currently clinging to his chest.

" 'm sorry..." Jamesy sniffled, trying his best to not start crying again.

"Hey, it's not your fault, you did nothing wrong." He reassured him, stroking up and down between his shoulders to try and soothe him.

"...We jus' wan' Daddy home..." He couldn't help the tears that quietly tracked down his face.

"I know you do, buddy, I do too. He'll be home before you know it." Uncle Sam rocked him a little, trying to help get him back down from the edge. It was never very easy.

An eternity passed before Jamesy finally calmed down, looking out to the gray, overcast sky looming outside of the nearby window. It was already almost the evening, and he had accidentally spent half the day crying and bothering Sam. He felt _awful_.

"Hey! I've got an idea!" Uncle Sam smiled, and no matter how awful they felt, seeing him or Daddy smile always made them smile too. "How about we make a nice dinner that he can have when he gets home?"

Jamesy liked the sound of that, Daddy always ate dinner with them after he came back from missions. He felt that it wouldn't be _exactly_ the same as if they were awake to eat with him, but a warm meal alone at home is better than nothing.

"It should be something that can stay warm..." Uncle Sam pondered, all of them working together to think of _something_ they could make.

"...WAIT!" Jamesy's soft voice yelped, the lightbulb of an idea practically visible above his head. He lept off the couch and bounded towards the kitchen, careful to keep his balance and not trip over his own feet. He began digging through cupboards and pantries, picking up different boxes and cans that he recognized by their pictures.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" He could hear the smile in Uncle Sam's voice as he walked over to where he was.

"Soup." Was their most basic reply. They were all determined, working together internally to locate the different items necessary.

"Ooh, that's a good idea. We can keep it warm in the crock-pot for him." Uncle Sam hummed, getting said device from one of the tall cupboards and placing it on the counter.

(Technically, their body was an inch taller than Sam's, they could have _easily_ reached the pot. But Jamesy was just a little boy, and little boys can't- and _shouldn't_ \- reach for high shelves on their own).

Once they were satisfied with their collection of beef stock, frozen mixed vegetables, onions, potatoes, celery, carrots, herbs, spices, and beef chunks from the fridge that Uncle Sam had picked up during their trip to the supermarket yesterday, Jamesy gathered all of the ingredients and set them on the counter.

"Here, I'll work with the knives and hot stuff, how about you work on measuring everything we need?" Uncle Sam offered, and Jamesy liked that idea. He gathered the measuring cups and spoons and began organizing the different ingredients.

Uncle Sam was busy cutting up the beef chunks and fresh vegetables as Jamesy poured the stock and already mixed frozen vegetables into the pot. Once the rest of the ingredients were chopped up into bite-sized pieces, they poured those into the pot too. After that, Jamesy took his time measuring each spice that he deemed worthy for the meaty medley; tumeric, garlic, ground italian herbs, ginger, salt, and a handful of bayleaves. Once the blend was thoroughly mixed, Uncle Sam turned the dial on the pot to 'medium' and placed the lid on top.

"And there we go!" Uncle Sam clasped his hands together, the glass lid of the pot already starting to steam up. "That'll be ready by the time he gets home. How about we have something of our own before getting ready for bed?"

Bed? It wasn't-- oh goodness it was already 7:30 at night! They hadn't realized how much time had passed. That, they could blame on the old saying; time flies fast when you're having fun.

Jamesy nodded, walking to the dinner table as Uncle Sam fetched some leftover pancakes from the fridge.

The two of them spent the rest of the evening eating their leftover pancake dinner, followed by Uncle Sam washing the dishes as Jamesy drew up a note for Daddy to tell him about the soup, then finally the both of them getting ready for bed in the two bathrooms of the apartment.

Once Jamesy had taken care of his business, brushed his teeth, and slipped into his pajamas and a fresh pullup, he was certainly ready for bed. The day's events finally caught up with him as he trudged his way to the bed, where Uncle Sam was waiting with his favorite stuffed triceratops and his cherished Bucky Bear. Winnie always loved snuggling with him while they slept. He smiled and crawled into the bed, already snuggling against Uncle Sam's chest before the other could even pick up a book from the small bookshelf next to the bed.

"To market, to market, to buy a fat pig." Uncle Sam's voice began, that familiar, soothing rumble against Jamesy's tired head.

He was already fast asleep by the time Sam's voice finished the book with "Home again, hot soup for lunch.". Sam smiled down at the sleeping form pressed against his chest, setting the book down, turning out the light, and laying down to get some shut eye himself.

It was dark, very dark. It must have been very early in the morning. Jamesy had barely woken up to the sound of footsteps outside of their door. He froze for a moment, frightened, as a miriade of horrific ideas as to who or _what_ could be out there suddenly flooded their brain.

But the quiet knock, one long and two short, before the tell-tale creak of the door, let him know _exactly_ who was home.

"...d'ddy." Jamesy's sleep-drunk voice still managed to sound so excited. He couldn't even lift himself up to see the other.

"Hey there, lamb," Daddy's voice whispered, and it felt so _good_ to hear him without the tinge of a phone speaker. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." He crawled into the bed with him and Uncle Sam, letting Jamesy hug him tight in the darkness. They all knew that familiar warmth of the other _anywhere_. He must have already gotten a shower, as he smelled like their soap and he was already in soft sleep-clothes.

"Did y'u see th' soup?" Jamesy asked, his voice not even counting as a whisper with how quiet it was.

"I did, it was delicious," He could hear Daddy's warm, loving smile in his voice. "Thank you so much, pal."

Jamesy was far too tired to express just how happy and excited he was. Instead, he curled up tight to Daddy's chest as he laid down in the large bed with him and Uncle Sam, who was still fast asleep in the spot next to them.

"We miss'd y'u Daddy." Jamesy yawned out, nuzzling the warm shirt on his Daddy's chest.

"I missed you all too, Jamesy." Daddy hummed, his strong arms wrapped tight-but-not- _too_ -tight around their body. Jamesy hummed his approval and, promptly, drifted back off to sleep.

For tomorrow, they shall have cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **References:**
> 
> The story Sam reads at bedtime is "To market, to market" by Anne Miranda.
> 
> **Brief Explanations:**
> 
> Due to trauma at the hands of Hydra, as well as the trauma of falling from the train, everyone in the Winter System has issues with abandonment and separation anxiety. Throughout the story, each of them had a way to distract themselves from the fact that Steve was gone, but Jamesy did not, as they had expected him to be home by then.
> 
> During the internal fight, Bucky becomes aggravated with the Soldier's internal resentment for being 'left to die' in the ravine. Logically, they all know that there was no other option and that Steve felt horribly guilty for the event, even to this day. However, that does not fully stop some internal struggles with deep rooted, traumatic emotions. 
> 
> These types of internal system fighting can occur in some DID systems with more integrated internal communication. These types of fights often stem from the emotions caused by universal, deep rooted trauma or traumatic memories within the system, and are usually a result of different alters feeling different emotions about one traumatic event, leading to an internal conflict.
> 
> These are based on personal experiences as a traumagenic DID system, and is not meant to explain or educate every case of DID. No two people, or their experiences, are exactly the same.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Any behaviors related to DID or Autism Spectrum Neurodivergency within this story are based on **personal experiences** and are not a scientific basis or professional explanation for either DID systems or Autism Spectrum Neurodivergency. No two people, let alone no two systems, are exactly the same.
> 
> Kudos and Comments are always appreciated!


End file.
